Goodbye to Northwest Manor
by Blood Moon Ball
Summary: Inspired by PFTones' Trust. All credit to her. Pacifica runs away from home after she lets in the townsfolk from the party. T for child abuse. I'll add a few more chapters later. Please review.
1. Slapped

Pacifica touched her cheek, wincing as pain shot through the growing bruise. "I should've known not to disobey the bell..." she muttered. She sighed and went over to her mirror to fix herself up; she looked pitiful. The bruise on her cheek was dark blue and tinged with purple; hurting more than they usually did. "C'mon, Pacifica, you've been through this a million times..." She scolded herself. She picked up some concealer and applied it onto the bruise.

Pacifica had gotten good at covering up all signs of abuse. She'd been doing it since she was nine, which was when her parents' expectations had started to take a toll on her. She studied her face in the mirror. The color had been covered up, but it was still quite swollen.

She sighed. "This is pointless," Pacifica said. She got up and pulled of her ripped purple party dress. She put on the most casual thing she owned, which was a $55 dollar silk tee. She also pulled on some shorts, which were tight. "I'm locked in my room, it's not like anybody is going to see me," she said, and she left them unzipped.

Pacifica thought back to the event. Her parents had acted as if she'd just brought about the end of their fortune, not as if she'd saved them from burning alive. And when she stood up for herself, she'd just received the hard slap. Pacifica remembered the loud, crisp sound that had echoed throughout the room.

Suddenly, an anger boiled up inside of her that she didn't usually get. "You know, I'm sick of this." She said, getting up. She took what money she could and stuffed it into her school bag. She also put in a pair of running shoes and and extra outfit. Pacifica stormed over to her wardrobe, and she grabbed her huge collection of decorative scarves. "Stupid dad," she said, tying them together. "Stupid mom, stupid prissy rich people who'd rather be wood than embarrassed." She spent the next half hour tying and tying her scarves together.

Pacifica held up her creation. It was a long, long rope of silky scarves. "Perfect," she said, tugging on it. She tied one end to her bed post, and threw the other out her window. Before she left, Pacifica placed a note on her bed.

 _Mom and Dad,_

 _I'm leaving. I'm tired of being called like a butler to be the person you want me to be. And don't come looking for me. I'm not coming back. Why don't you just adopt one of my friends? They're prissy and shallow headed. And people will think you're kind, adopting a child. That's all you care about, your reputation. They don't know how you really are._

 _Long story short: to hell with you._

 _Your daughter,_

 _Pacifica_

The girl took one last glance at her bedroom before grabbing onto the rope and lowering down. "I'm free," she said when her feet touched ground. And she knew exactly where she was going.


	2. Arrival at the Shack

Pacifica took a deep breath in. "They won't reject you, Dipper understands now," she assured herself. She raised her hand and rapped on the door.

She waited for about a minute, getting discouraged every second that ticked by. Finally, though the door creaked open. There stood a drowsy looking Stan Pines, in an undershirt and shorts. "You?" He asked, surprised. "You're that Northwest girl." He looked about to make a rude remark, when he notice the state that the kid was in. A ripped shirt, scrapes on her arm, and twigs entangled in her hair. She was also holding a large school bag.

"C-can I come in?" She asked quietly. Stan was taken aback. This wasn't the snotty tone he got from the Northwests. He nodded and moved to the side.

She walked in and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. It was then that Stan noticed the large bruise on her cheek. The makeup had gotten smeared on Pacifica's walk through the woods. "Hey kid, what... What happened to your face there?" He asked.

Pacifica touched her cheek, realizing that some of the makeup had smeared away. "I-I fell," she said. She knew her tone wasn't convincing. "Nah," said Stan. "You don't cover up a falling bruise with makeup. What was it? Boyfriend? Mugger? Your parents?"

Pacifica froze when he mentioned her parents. It was a small difference, but Stan noticed it all the same. He clenched his fists, cursing silently. "I'll be right back," he said. He stomped up the stairs.

Stan shook Dipper awake. "Grunkle Stan?" Dipper asked, rubbing his eyes. Stan replied, "Kid, I need you to go downstairs and talk to that Northwest girl. I'm not gonna get it all out of her. I have a feeling her parents are using more than just a bell as punishment."

Dipper sat up, awake. "Pacifica's downstairs?" He asked. Stan nodded. "But not in good condition."


End file.
